


Back to the Drawing Board

by Mntsnflrs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Cat Dads, Fluff and Humor, Lack of Communication, M/M, Minor Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Minor Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun, Nonverbal Communication, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28240425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mntsnflrs/pseuds/Mntsnflrs
Summary: He hadn’t truly considered the likelihood of looking out of his window one early morning, the sun still lazily climbing its way up the sky, and seeing his neighbour, messy hair, coffee in hand, staring at Taeyong like he’d seen a ghost.He was beautiful, maybe the most beautiful man in the world, but Taeyong hadn’t known that at the time. His glasses had been abandoned on his nightstand, and all he could see was the vague outline he soon came to know as Doyoung. Confused, he offered the apparition a wave.The apparition waved back.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 25
Kudos: 504
Collections: the misfits' holiday exchange





	Back to the Drawing Board

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dochiwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dochiwrites/gifts).



The sun was just beginning to set when Taeyong got home and knelt by his window, staring out across the apartment block’s tiny courtyard.

 _Johnny came by and fed Boo_ , the sign in the window opposite read. _Don’t trust her._

As if summoned, Taeyong’s cat wound her way around his legs, purring loudly. Her long, white fur immediately coated his black slacks, but he didn’t care. He picked her up and kissed the crown of her soft head, staring at the sign in the opposite apartment.

After a moment holding Boo, Taeyong let her wander away, standing to find his whiteboard pen and write a reply thanking Doyoung for noticing. When Boo noticed Taeyong was up, she went and sat beside her empty bowl, expectant. He laughed, pausing to rub one of her ears before uncapping the pen he’d found, writing a brief but grateful reply.

_Thank you. I just got home and she’s already trying to trick me._

It was rare they were home at the same time, but just in case, Taeyong pushed his board closer to his window and aimed it towards Doyoung’s apartment. On the off chance that he saw it before morning, Taeyong wanted to make sure Doyoung knew his message had been received in time to stop the extra meal.

He clipped the lid back onto the pen and set to changing into something more comfortable than his formal clothes, deciding on a fluffy jumper and matching sweats.

After frying himself some leftover rice and kimchi, Taeyong took a seat on his couch and set to eating his late dinner, washing it down with the heady red wine Johnny had bought him the last time they’d gone grocery shopping together.

It was only when he’d finished his food, Boo sniffing the empty bowl while Taeyong reached for his wine that he looked up in time to see Doyoung’s apartment light flicking on.

He stood up, wine in hand and saw Doyoung at his window. He was finishing a new message for Taeyong, suit still on, tie only slightly looser than it should have been. He must have gotten home early.

He turned the sign back around to face the window, startling when he saw Taeyong.

Then he smiled, and Taeyong couldn’t have stopped himself from smiling back if he’d wanted to. He waved, hesitant.

Doyoung waved back before pointing to his new sign.

_You’re home late. I hope you rest well._

Taeyong nodded, hand tightening around his wine.

Doyoung smiled a little wider, flashing his gums as his eyes creased. He nodded back, then offered one last wave before moving away from the window, hands moving to undo his tie as he retreated to his bedroom.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that sense returned to Taeyong’s brain from its retreat in his foolish heart. He scrambled to put his wine down somewhere that Boo wouldn’t immediately knock it over, then rubbed out the writing on his board with the edge of his fluffy sleeve.

 _You too,_ he wrote on the clean board. _Sleep well, Doyoung._

-

Moving into the apartment half a year ago, Taeyong hadn’t truly considered the lack of privacy that came with a huge window staring into the small courtyard of the apartment complex. All he’d been thinking about at the time was the pet friendly advertisement online, the promise that as long as the pet was sized below the knee and older than three months, they were guaranteed acceptance.

He hadn’t truly considered the likelihood of a neighbour seeing right into his lounge, or the likelihood that whether intentional or not, as long as Taeyong looked out of his window, he was basically guaranteed to be staring into the opposite apartment.

He hadn’t truly considered the likelihood of looking out of his window one early morning, the sun still lazily climbing its way up the sky, and seeing his neighbour, messy hair, coffee in hand, staring at Taeyong like he’d seen a ghost.

He was beautiful, maybe the most beautiful man in the world, but Taeyong hadn’t known that at the time. His glasses had been abandoned on his nightstand, and all he could see was the vague outline he soon came to know as Doyoung. Confused, he offered the apparition a wave.

The apparition waved back.

The next time Taeyong passed, glasses firmly on his face and eyes working as they should, he noticed a piece of paper stuck to the window of the ghostly figure, a sign in bold letters that were directed to Taeyong’s window.

 _That apartment has been empty for months_ , the sign read. _It’s nice to see it a home again. I hope we get along well, neighbour._

Taeyong spent his morning putting the frame for his whiteboard together, watching Boo paw at the loose bolts while he figured out which metal pole went where. By the time it was up and functioning it was time for lunch, but he wrote a brief note before making a sandwich.

_I hope we get along, too! I’m Taeyong and my cat is Boo, my adopted daughter. It’s nice to meet you!_

And when he returned with his plate, Boo rubbing against his ankles, his ghost’s sign had changed.

_I’m Doyoung. It’s nice to meet you both. Boo is beautiful, a true reflection on her owner. Have a good day, Taeyong._

It was flattering. Polite and funnily formal, but Taeyong’s cheeks heated just the same, as if someone in a bar had made a passing compliment, something genuine but unexpected.

It was flattering until a couple of days later, when he finally caught sight of Doyoung without the barrier of sight loss or conflicting schedules. It stopped being flattering then, when Doyoung caught sight of Taeyong and waved again, and his face came into focus in painful detail, from the soft plains of his face to his graceful neck, his dark eyes and sweet smile all too much for Taeyong’s weak, romantic heart.

Doyoung was the perfect stencil shape of a man, everything they could and should be. Taeyong didn’t know it at the time, but it became obvious over the following months. What he did know as he stared at Doyoung, for the first time really seeing him, was that Doyoung was the stencil shape of a man perfect to break Taeyong’s heart.

-

The first time they met in person, Taeyong was sat on the rotting wooden bench in the apartment block’s courtyard, Boo batting the leaves of a dead plant at the other end of her pink leash.

Doyoung came out through the double doors, dressed much more casually than Taeyong had ever seen. His trousers were baggy, his shirt at least three sizes too bag, a long silver chain hanging from his neck. He had a steaming mug in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He blinked when he saw Taeyong, then followed the leash with his eyes until they reached Boo. Then he stubbed out his cigarette and put the butt in the trash. “I’m not disturbing you, am I?” Doyoung asked.

“Not at all,” Taeyong said. He gestured vaguely to Boo. “I just like her to get some outside time since we don’t have a balcony or anything.”

“Makes sense,” Doyoung said, taking a seat beside Taeyong. His eyes remained firmly on the cat. “She’s very pretty,” he murmured. “How do you keep her so clean?”

Taeyong giggled. “It’s a struggle,” he said. “She’s not fond of baths, but I try to keep them pretty frequent because of how long her coat is.”

Doyoung nodded. His eyes finally moved to Taeyong, and they were much warmer than expected; dark but comfortable. Like coals burning away in a winter fire, keeping your fingertips from freezing. “I’ve always wanted pets,” Doyoung said. “But so far life hasn’t provided the opportunity.”

“I know what you mean, I feel the same way about marriage,” Taeyong said without thinking.

Doyoung laughed, unexpected and loud. “I’m not sure a fish and matrimony are on the same level, but whatever fits, I guess.”

Taeyong felt the blush climbing its way up his neck, so he turned his eyes to Boo, who had moved on from the leaves to attempting to wriggle her way under the dirt of the ground. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” Doyoung replied, gentle. “If you want to get married, that’s nothing to apologise for. Are you a hopeless romantic?”

“I’m definitely hopeless,” Taeyong said, blush warming further when Doyoung laughed again. “And I guess romantic fits too.” If he were being entirely honest, he’d admit that he fell in love with strangers daily. The man behind the counter of the bakery that passed over his croissant with a dimpled smile, the woman with a vibrant orange streak in her hair who met his gaze while waiting for the bus, the tired man in the suit that had made a sign to say hello to his new neighbour who was now sat with his coffee watching Taeyong blush and splutter his way through their meeting. It was too much, though. Taeyong was often too much, and in this especially he felt the potential for scaring Doyoung away with his intensity.

“Hopeless is fine,” Doyoung said. “Romantic is, too. Don’t apologise for being you, because really, the only opinion on yourself you should value is your own.”

Taeyong hummed. “That’s always easier said than done though, isn’t it?”

Doyoung sipped his coffee. “It is,” he said after a long moment. “You’re right, but don’t tell anyone I admitted that.”

“You don’t like ?”

“Does anyone?”

“I don’t mind it,” Taeyong said. “Usually.”

“I hate it,” Doyoung replied. “As far as I am concerned, I’m always right. Stating otherwise would be lying.”

“But you just admitted that I was right.”

Doyoung took another sip of his coffee. “We all have exceptions. It seems like you must be mine.”

“Oh.” To say his heart flew to the moon and back wouldn’t be an exaggeration. “It’s an honour.”

Doyoung grinned, flashing his cute teeth, his beautiful happiness. “It should be,” he said. Tipping his head back, he drained his mug and then stood up. “If you ever need a pet sitter, I’m happy to do so.”

“You’re leaving?” Taeyong asked, unable to hide his disappointment.

“I have work in an hour,” Doyoung said. “I need to shower and find my fucking tie. I swear it hides from me.”

“What do you do? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m a doctor working in community paediatrics.”

“You’re a doctor?” Taeyong asked, ignoring the part of him that immediately pictured Doyoung bandaging children’s knees, ignoring the need to immediately propose and instead receive a restraining order. “But you smoke?”

“Only when I’m looking for an excuse to sit with my attractive neighbour,” Doyoung said. He smiled, . “Have a good day, Taeyong. I hope Boo doesn’t scratch you too much when you bathe her later.”

Confused, Taeyong turned back to Boo. She was covered in wet dirt, her long fur matted, her eyes big and falsely innocent. Taeyong put his hand to his head and groaned, dismayed. When he turned back to the double doors, Doyoung was gone.

Taeyong didn’t ever get around to asking if Doyoung found his tie on that particular day, but when he checked his mailbox the following day, there was a packet of bandages waiting for him, green and covered in cartoon frogs, the perfect size to cover the cuts from Boo’s ferocious bath claws.

-

It would be an exaggeration to say they became friends, but it would be an understatement to deny it. They found and odd equilibrium in the courtyard between apartments, discussing star signs and favourite foods and annoying family members, leaving out everything important for the sake of discussing the forgotten in-betweens of their personalities.

Taeyong learnt that beyond Doyoung’s profession, he was an antisocial sloth that smoked when he fell into bad moods. He learnt that Doyoung’s shadow at the clinic had a crush on the temporary secretary. He learnt that Doyoung earned a good wage, but most of it went his younger cousin who was still in college, which was why Doyoung was living in such a small apartment with no privacy.

In turn, Doyoung learnt that Taeyong had moved out of his shared apartment to save Johnny from the pain of having to ask if he could move in with his boyfriend, Ten. Doyoung learnt the shape of Johnny’s silhouette in Taeyong’s apartment, the ghost of a housemate that missed Boo and begged for Taeyong’s spare key for covert cat cuddles. Doyoung learnt that Taeyong cried over almost every film he watched, from horrors to romance.

They moved past strangers to acquaintances to beyond in a steady manner but, despite it, Taeyong still didn’t know Doyoung’s family name. He didn’t know Doyoung’s friends, his siblings, his favourite meal, his birthday. He didn’t know the inside of Doyoung’s apartment, other than the signs left in the window reminding Taeyong to eat breakfast and drink water before he went to sleep.

It was like the odd relationship you developed with co-workers, skipping the pleasantries and polite questions, and diving straight into the topics you didn’t even know you needed to talk about, like catching your neighbour cheating on his wife when you were eight years old, ruminating the age-old question of fate, needing that second opinion on getting your friend a watch for his birthday.

“That doesn’t mean you’re not friends,” Jaehyun said, slightly louder than usual to ensure he was heard over Boo’s obnoxious purring. To Taeyong’s chagrin, she was making a spectacle of herself in Johnny’s lap, wriggling and purring with the occasional scream if she felt she weren’t receiving enough hard-earned attention. “Skipping the awkward phase doesn’t mean you’re not friends, it just means that you’re probably meant to be _good_ friends. Like, really good. If you click with someone, you click.”

Taeyong hummed, unsure. As far as he knew, Doyoung was at work, which meant he didn’t have to worry about looking ugly, sat against the window in his paint stain sweats and oversized hoodie. With Jaehyun and Johnny on the couch peering not so subtly into Doyoung’s lounge, Taeyong felt a little extra thankful for his absence.

Johnny, finally moving his eyes from the window, pinned Taeyong with a direct stare. “How come you can fall in love with a stranger that holds the door for you, but you can’t acknowledge friendship with someone you actually have the opportunity to get somewhere with?”

Taeyong winced. “It’s not that, I’m just…”

“Terrified of reciprocation?” Johnny offered. “It’s okay, you can admit it, we’re all friends here.”

“Are we?” Taeyong asked, affronted. “I’m not so sure of that now.”

But as always, Johnny smiled, and all wrongs were rightened. “I’m just making it very clear to you that so far, the only thing in your way is you. All signs point to go, Taeyong. What’s the harm in asking him on a coffee date or something small and mundane?”

“What if he says no?”

“He calls you hot and sits talking to you in that depressing little concrete rectangle almost every day. I don’t think he’ll say no.”

Taeyong put his hands to his forehead, stomach already sickly from the dread. “But what if he does?”

“You could move in with me and Ten!”

“Or just buy some curtains,” Jaehyun said, tone dry. “Let’s not act like rejection means Taeyong has to leave the country.”

Johnny pouted. “You’re right, I just miss living with him.” He blew kisses to Boo, who was still wriggling in his lap. “And I miss this princess, yes I do!”

“I don’t even know if he’s gay, though,” Taeyong said. “He’s like the surprisingly perfect nerdy guy that women always fall for in Hallmark movies. What if he’s straight? What if he’s homophobic?”

“He calls you _attractive,”_ Johnny stressed. “Homophobic dudes don’t hit on guys.”

It was a good point, but one that Taeyong was willing to ignore. “What if he doesn’t actually like me? What if he’s just being polite?”

“You’re running in circles now,” Jaehyun said. “You’ve already said that you skipped the polite stage and went right into discussing childhood trauma. Trust me, that’s not something you do for casual conversation unless you’re Ten or Yuta. Do you have his number?”

Taeyong shook his head. “We’ve kind of made a point of not asking. If we have something to say, we just put it in the window and wait.”

Johnny sighed dreamily. “That’s annoyingly cute. You should just go for it, Taeyong. The worst that happens is he says he isn’t interested, and you still have a cool friend that lives across the concrete abyss below.”

“So you admit that rejection is definitely a possibility,” Taeyong said.

In Jaehyun’s defence, Taeyong probably deserved the pillow to the face he received for the comment.

It didn’t resolve the issue, but it allowed Taeyong reprieve from his own emotional turmoil to turn focus back to planning Jaehyun’s birthday party.

Hours later, when the sky was darkening and Taeyong was curled on his couch with Boo sleeping in his arms, he saw the lights of Doyoung’s apartment flicker on. Doyoung walked into his lounge and immediately headed to his window, taking down the sign from that morning that had reminded Taeyong which day he needed to take his trash out.

As Taeyong watched, Doyoung wrote another sign and propped it in his window, pausing briefly to smile up at Taeyong.

_Drink some wine with me?_

Taeyong nodded before he could think, heart twisting when Doyoung’s smile widened. He looked tired but happy, his suit rumpled, his tie loose. He looked like he’d smell ever so faintly of smoke, the antiseptic aroma of a doctor’s surgery, and the warm, spicy aftershave that he wore whenever he sat with Taeyong in the courtyard.

He looked like everything Taeyong wanted in that moment. A beautiful, tired man with a bottle of red wine and an empty couch, the perfect evening to spend too close, too warm, too entirely content to do anything other than slowly fall asleep pressed against each other.

Still, this was good enough.

Taeyong shifted Boo onto the pillows beside him and then wandered through to the kitchen to find a bottle of wine and a glass. By the time he returned, Doyoung was sat by his window with his own glass of white wine, his jacket and tie discarded somewhere. There was a fresh sign in the window.

_How was your day?_

It made Taeyong smile. He sat beside his whiteboard, even happier when Boo moved herself so that she could climb back into his arms and snuggle down. With his right hand, he put his wine on the floor and uncapped his pen, writing afresh on the board.

_Good, thank you. I had friends over between online tutoring sessions. How was your day?_

Doyoung sipped his wine before writing his reply.

_Not bad, but long. What are you being tutored in?_

Taeyong giggled.

 _I’m the tutor, actually. I help home-schooled kids with various subjects they’re struggling with_ _._

Doyoung blinked, wide and pretty. He sipped more of his wine.

_You’re a tutor? It suits you. So gentle._

Taeyong hid his blush behind his wine and took a long drink. Considering his low tolerance, he knew it was a bad idea to drink quickly, but Doyoung seemed to inspire the kind of dismay that made Taeyong want to dunk his head in a bath of Merlot.

 _Thank you,_ he eventually wrote. _What are your plans for the evening?_

He could see Doyoung laughing, and it ached somewhere deep to know he couldn’t hear it.

 _My plans are this_ , Doyoung wrote. _If you don’t mind, that is_ _._

As Taeyong watched, wide eyed, Doyoung raised his wine in a toast.

After a long moment, Taeyong reached for the board and replied.

_I don’t mind. I’d like it._

He raised his own glass and watched Doyoung smile again, smaller than the last but just as happy. More intimate in a way that made Taeyong’s stomach clench as he took a sip of his own wine, heady and spiced, warming his throat all the way down.

-

Taeyong had never met anyone quite like Doyoung. He proved himself to be pedantic and particular about the most insignificant things, but so weirdly calm about the things that would have made Taeyong sick with fear.

Doyoung kept calm and reassured child and mother that things would be well with the right medication and rest. He tripped over his hidden tie and sprained his ankle? It was nothing that another bottle of wine and an early night couldn’t fix. He ran out of oil while making dinner? Apparently it was enough of a horror to have him smoking in the courtyard early the next morning, despite the February chill.

Taeyong found him there just after sunrise, on his return from his morning yoga class. Doyoung was easy to spot through the lobby windows, the only one in the courtyard, bare arms out, cigarette smouldering into ash between his fingers as he glared at nothing.

“Hi,” Taeyong said, hesitantly approaching. “Is everything okay?”

“Ran out of oil,” Doyoung muttered. “Couldn’t cook my fucking pork, so I had siracha on toast for dinner like a fucking student again because my ankle still hurts, and I didn’t want to walk to the store.”

Taeyong took a seat on the bench, keeping a respectable distance. In his hoodie and yoga pants, the air was slightly too cold to be comfortable, but he pushed past it. “You should have said something,” he told Doyoung. “I could have brought you over some of my oil. Or, if you needed more, I would have gone to the store for you.”

“You have your own life. You don’t need to babysit me.”

“I don’t think helping a neighbour is babysitting by definition.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Don’t argue with a doctor, Taeyong.”

Taeyong lifted his chin. “Don’t argue with a teacher, Doyoung.”

Doyoung blew out a sigh that ruffled his hair. “Annoying,” he muttered, as if a small smile weren’t playing at the edge of his lips.

Taeyong would have been happy to stare at that smile all day, if only the red cherry of the cigarette weren’t so close to Doyoung’s slim fingers. “You’ll burn yourself if you don’t put that out soon.”

Doyoung stubbed it out and wandered over to the bin to get rid of the butt, then sat back down next to Taeyong with another heavy sigh. “I’ve worn myself out sulking.”

“Maybe a nap would help.”

Doyoung laughed. “Sure, if it lasted forty hours. Unfortunately, I don’t have that luxury.”

“Oh? Are you due at work soon?”

He shook his head. “My cousin has a basketball game I promised I’d watch.”

“Sweet,” Taeyong said, bringing his knees up to his chest to fend off some of the cold. “You sound close.”

“Very,” Doyoung said, staring up at the small stretch of visible sky. “Jeno was always the best kid. Much better than my brother and me.”

“You have a brother?”

“I do,” Doyoung replied, smiling fully now. “He’s the elder, but he wouldn’t want you to know it. He likes me to baby him.”

Doyoung’s profession made a great deal of sense with the way his whole life reflected his need to nurture and care. He was a good man, silly moods or otherwise. “I’m sure it was fun to grow up together,” Taeyong said. “I have an older sister, and I’d do anything for her.”

“I’m sure you would,” Doyoung said, looking at Taeyong with an oddly fond expression. “But I’m sure you’d do anything for most people you meet.”

Taeyong looked down, shyness warming his cheeks. “Not really,” he murmured. “Only for the people I care about.”

Doyoung nodded like Taeyong had just proven something significant. “You’re freezing, aren’t you?”

He was very cold. From his thighs to his shoulders, his skin felt like ice. “It’s not too bad.”

Doyoung nodded again. His smile was widening, like something else had just been proven, like he was having a silent debate with Taeyong that he was winning. “What are you doing on Friday night, Taeyong?”

Valentine’s Day. “I’m at my friend’s birthday party,” Taeyong said, heart somewhere in the region of his throat. “Why?”

Doyoung shrugged. “No matter. What are you doing Saturday evening?”

His heart kept rising. It was hovering above his head now, ready to be popped and sink back to the ground or keep floating higher into the sky. “Nothing,” Taeyong said. “Why?”

“Would you like to come over for dinner?”

It was gone, way into the stratosphere and beyond. Up above the satellites, Taeyong’s heart was singing Doyoung’s name. “You just want me to bring oil over, don’t you?”

Doyoung laughed, loud and unpolished, throat a little raw sounding. “You’re such a shit,” he said.

“Only for the people I care about,” Taeyong repeated, enamoured with the way Doyoung’s smile grew.

“I suppose I should consider myself to be lucky, then.”

“Very,” Taeyong said.

“My gratitude will keep me warm on Friday while I watch shitty romances and think of you dancing,” Doyoung said, tone dry but light.

“I mean, you can come to the party if you’d like,” Taeyong said, flustered that he hadn’t thought to make the offer earlier.

Doyoung nudged him gently. “I’m just joking,” he said. “I hope you have a fun evening with your friends, I just enjoy complaining every now and again. Friday will at least give me time to think of what to cook for you.”

“I mean…” Taeyong paused, thinking rapidly over their past interactions. “If you still want the opportunity to petsit, you’re more than welcome to have Boo on Friday. If you’d like the company.”

Doyoung’s eyes widened. “You’d trust me with her?”

“Sure,” Taeyong said, fidgeting a little under the attention. “You’re a paediatric doctor. You’re a good man. You’ll take care of her.”

There was a pause.

“I’d love to,” Doyoung said. “If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” Taeyong reassured him. “I don’t mind at all. I can bring her and some supplies over to your apartment just as I leave in the evening, if you like. I’d be happy to pick her up in the morning.”

“Sounds great,” Doyoung said. He laughed again, sudden. “I can’t believe I get a date with your cat before I get one with you.”

Taeyong giggled, hiding his embarrassed smile behind his cold hands. “Sorry,” he murmured. “But Jaehyun never gets to have a party on his birthday because he’s worried we’ll all be on dates. We promised we’d keep Valentine’s Day free for him this year, and if I leave early, his boyfriend might murder me.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologise,” Doyoung said, staring at Taeyong with an unfamiliar look, one that inspired lightning and fireworks in the pit of Taeyong’s stomach. “You’re worth the wait.”

His hands were almost entirely numb by the time he made it back to his apartment, so he filled his small tub full of steaming water and rose scented bubbles, soaking until his fingertips faded from purple to red to pink, until he could feel his toes, until Boo’s small paws peeked over the edge of the tub with the top of her ears, her curious noises reminding Taeyong that he still had a day that needed to be lived.

When he walked back into the main living area of his apartment, now snuggled into thick sweatpants and one of his dad’s old shirts, he noticed a new sign in Doyoung’s window.

_Have a good day, Taeyong. I can’t wait for our date._

And Taeyong did have a good day. Granted, it was an entirely average day in terms of schedule, uneventful in terms of excitement.

Still. Whenever he looked over after finishing a tutoring session and saw Doyoung’s sign in the window, it felt like a good day. It felt like a great day.

-

By the time Taeyong, Ten, and Johnny arrived at Jaehyun and Sicheng’s apartment, the small space was already overcrowded with people and balloons taking up most of the space. Despite the squish, Jaehyun was easy enough to spot due to his obnoxious birthday cake hat that stood tall above the sea of heads. He gave Taeyong a tight hug when he opened the gift wrapping and saw the watch Taeyong had finally decided to buy.

“It’s gorgeous,” he murmured into Taeyong’s ear. “Thank you so much.”

Taeyong hugged him back just as hard. “You’re welcome,” he said. “Happy birthday.”

Jaehyun hummed, pulling back slightly to smile. “Thanks,” he replied. “The big twenty-five. You know what’s next, right?”

Taeyong frowned, confused. “Twenty-six?”

“Marriage.”

Taeyong balked, eyes darting around the crowd. _“Marriage?”_ he hissed. “Does Sicheng know? How long have you been planning this? I mean, _have_ you been planning this? Do you know his ring size? Have you told his parents? Does he know that you-“

_“Tae.”_

He stopped talking. “Yes?”

Jaehyun laughed, rosy-cheeked from champagne and amusement. “Calm down.”

Taeyong pouted. “Sorry, but this is a big deal! I’m excited for you!”

“And I appreciate the excitement, but you haven’t missed anything yet,” Jaehyun reassured him. “I’ll be starting to plan over the coming weeks, and if you’re free, I’d love your help with the finer details. Johnny has already promised to use his charm to get us some discounts on potential venues.”

Taeyong murmured his agreement, still somewhat winded from the news. “Marriage,” he said, weak. “Jung Jaehyun, thinking about marriage.”

Jaehyun nodded, glowing. “I mean, if you’re certain you’re with the love of your life, why wait?”

“Why indeed,” Taeyong said, looking at Sicheng across the room. As if feeling their eyes, Sicheng looked up, eyes big and earnest as he checked Jaehyun’s face for happiness. When he found it he smiled, cute, and offered Taeyong a small wave.

Jaehyun nudged him. “Hold it together, you look like you might cry.”

“I’m still debating it.” Taeyong sniffed. “Have you told Yuta?”

“Not yet. You know he _will_ cry, and then Mark will have to know why his boyfriend is crying, and then Donghyuck will know and Renjun and soon enough it’ll find its way right back to Sicheng. I’m keeping it with you and Johnny for now.”

“I’m honoured,” Taeyong said. He pouted again, fighting off the tears. “I _love_ love. I’m so happy for you.”

Jaehyun hugged him again, comforting and secure. “Thank you,” he murmured. “And I can’t wait to be happy for you, too.”

-

The party ended up winding down much faster than Taeyong had envisaged. As it was, Sicheng was eager to get Jaehyun to himself for the remainder of their Valentine’s Day, and Taeyong ended up back at his apartment block not even tipsy, the two measly glasses of champagne he’d had having worn off hours ago.

It felt odd to open his apartment door and not hear a meow greeting him, or having a soft white ghost threading her way between his legs, but after one suspended moment of panic, Taeyong remembered where Boo was, and that she was entirely safe.

He sighed, closing the door behind him and toeing off his ankle boots, tired. He didn’t bother with the lights, as over the months the layout of the apartment had become second nature to traverse, and Taeyong could find his way with his eyes closed. Wandering through to his bedroom, he took his jewellery off and glanced at himself in the mirror, impressed that most of his makeup hadn’t budged through his emotional evening.

It was only on his way back through to the kitchen that he thought to check if Doyoung had posted any sign updates, making Taeyong pause beside the window.

There was no new sign, but as Taeyong squinted, searching for any writing, his contact lenses finally focused and he caught sight of Doyoung, further into the apartment, weaving between his coffee table and couch.

Taeyong knelt down beside the window, hands to the glass, and tried to see what exactly was happening.

When he realised, he fell back onto his ass and stared.

Doyoung, glasses slipping down his nose, baggy sweatpants and shirt covered in stains, was dancing. He was dancing slowly, carefully, with Boo tucked under his chin, curled up in his arms, her face against his neck.

He looked like everything Taeyong wanted in that moment, and this time Taeyong wasn’t content to sit back and watch through the window.

He shoved his feet back into his boots and was out of the door before he could second guess himself, jogging the lengthy hall that stretched around the entire building. When he reached Doyoung’s apartment, quiet jazz drifted from under the door.

It paused when Taeyong knocked, and then Doyoung was opening the door, eyes wide with surprise, Boo still clutched to his chest. Up close she looked blissful, her eyes closed, purring obnoxiously loud.

“Taeyong,” Doyoung said. “You’re back early. I didn’t see your light turn on.”

“I didn’t turn it on,” Taeyong said. He couldn’t stop staring. Unbidden, the memory of watching Jaehyun and Sicheng meet in college rose up, the way Jaehyun’s eyes found Sicheng in the library and then didn’t move away until he left. If Jaehyun saw in Sicheng what Taeyong was seeing in Doyoung, he could understand it now. “Can I come in?”

Doyoung stepped back, allowing room for Taeyong. “Of course.

So Taeyong wandered in, familiarising himself with the apartment he had only seen briefly when he’d first dropped Boo off that evening. It looked odd from this angle, less a stage and more a liveable space. Oddly enough, it was clean and minimal in the way that Taeyong had styled his own apartment.

Doyoung walked through to the lounge, frowning ever so slightly. “What can I do for you, Taeyong? Is everything alright?”

“Are you busy?”

Doyoung laughed, incredulous. “It’s what, half past ten? I’m not busy, no.”

“We have an hour and a half of Valentine’s Day left. Is that enough time for a date?”

Doyoung blinked. “I mean, do you want it to be enough time?”

“I do,” Taeyong said. His throat felt tight, like he was once again on the edge of crying, though this time he couldn’t identify the exact reason why. “It used to be a running joke with my friends that I fall in love with everyone I meet, from cashiers to deliverymen. I didn’t really think about it, but now that I’m looking back, I haven’t fallen in love with anyone since I met you.”

“Not a single person?”

Taeyong swallowed. “Well, maybe one.”

He still couldn’t pinpoint what it was that hummed between them, the spark from first glance, the warmth from first smile, but it didn’t matter. When Doyoung gently placed Boo on the floor and pulled Taeyong into a kiss, Taeyong knew that some things didn’t need to be named.

As he kissed Doyoung back, threading his hands into that soft hair, licking his way into that addictive mouth, Taeyong couldn’t remember his _own_ name.

He couldn’t remember anything other than the shape of Doyoung that fit perfectly into Taeyong’s cookie cutter heart.


End file.
